


AU of "A New Record"

by masqueradeofwords



Series: Septiplier (A New Record + AU, Requests) [2]
Category: Septiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alpha Jack, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Omega Mark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-09 16:59:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7809973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masqueradeofwords/pseuds/masqueradeofwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate version of "A New Record" where the roles are swapped!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Thunder of Cereal

“And I will see you in the next video..BYE-BYE!” Mark plastered his trademark ridiculous smile on and waved, hitting the button to end the recording with the other. Relaxing, he slouched back in his chair and reviewed the video, managing to keep his eyes open long enough to edit and upload it. 

Once the video was published, it was 10:00pm. The usual time. The Youtuber exited his recording studio and went to grab a snack from his fridge, eventually fishing out a leftover bowl of noodles from the day before. After slurping a few mouthfuls, Mark replaced the bowl and shuffled up the stairs. Lying down, he took his sleep aid pills and put one pillow under his head, facing left. At 11:00pm, like the day before, like every day this year, Mark Fischbach dozed off.

And, like he usually did, he dreamed about running. There were small variations in the dreams, mostly in the setting, but it was always the same thing. Running, running on four legs besides many others through the forest until Mark reached the brick wall like he always did. Every single time. And he could never get through, no matter how much he scrabbled at it or yelled at it. It always stopped him, and the landfall always caught up and dragged him into darkness.

Mark woke up at 1:20am, give or take a few minutes, and took another pill. One more, just like the day before. He laid awake for approximately fifteen minutes, like the day before, and went to sleep again, just like every goddamn day for over a year.

******

At 7:30 in the morning, Mark wandered into the kitchen and made himself a bowl of cereal, yawning sleepily as Cinnamon Toast Crunch thundered and ceramic clinked. After eating three quarters of it, Mark threw the rest away and went to his recording studio. 

At least today it was something new, that he was thankful for. His life was a broken record these days, cycling over and over, every week, every day. But at least there were small variations, tiny differences. Yawning, Mark slipped on his headphones and started to play Lethe.

Two hours later, everything was done. The new video was uploaded, edited, and published. Mark sighed, rubbing his forehead, and wondered what to do with his free time today. Cook? No, did that yesterday and twice last week. Play a game for fun? Nothing I’m interested in right now...Take a walk? Mark brightened up at that thought, and he grabbed his wallet, a jacket, and his phone (sheathed in a Markiplier-proof case), stepping out through the door into the bright midday sunshine.

*******

As the famous Youtuber strolled through the park, he kept his nondescript hoodie on with the hood up, covering his crimson hair so he wasn’t mobbed by adoring fans. Even now, when the park was inhabited only by rabbits, Mark could never be too careful.

Or could he? Mark was starting to get incredibly hot and uncomfortable, and he tugged at the neck of his hoodie uncomfortably. The sun, which had seemed so warm and welcoming at the beginning of his exploration, now whipped him mercilessly with its punishing rays. Finally, when Mark thought he was about to collapse, he could take it no more. 

Yanking off the hoodie, Mark tied it around his waist and floofed up his hair (it had become slicked with sweat). But to his dismay, it only helped for a few seconds. There was no cool breeze to caress his skin, no water to pour over his head, no way to get some damn relief.

Sighing, Mark dragged himself under the shade of a tree and sat there, his head spinning with the heat. Do I have heat stroke? No, I’d be completely delirious by then...guess it’s just a hot day. He leaned against the trunk, shifting so one of its knots didn’t dig into his spine, and enjoyed the soft grass against his legs. Mmm, he thought, letting his head sink to his left shoulder. Warm…

*****

When Mark woke up, he automatically started to turn over to the right. Get pill. Swallow with a cup of water. Back to bed. Sleep.

Instead, he found himself flat on his back with a tree root up his ass. Great. The red-haired man sat up with a groan, looking around himself, and swore when he saw stars glimmering in the velvety black nighttime sky. Dammit, Markiplier, you can’t go sleeping in parks...Heh, imagine someone seeing me, a Youtuber with over 14 million subscribers, curled up under an oak…

And strangely, still, Mark felt incredibly hot. The night air was cool around him, maybe about sixty degrees or so in his estimate, so it couldn’t be the outside temperature. Shit, I have a fever...SHIT! Mark panicked as he remembered that Jacksepticeye, one of his friends, was supposed to be visiting him in four days. Shit shit shit shit fuck shit fuck!

When he made it back to his comfortable LA house, Mark sat on the couch and held an ice bag to his temple, almost moaning at the relief it brought. It was past midnight, and he had another minor panic attack knowing that the schedule was broken now. Everything is going wrong. Checking the sleep aids, seeing that feverishness wasn’t a possible side effect. Fuck, and I don’t have anything for a fever...guess I’ll just have to last the night.

Grabbing three ice packs, a roll of paper towels, and several plastic bags, Mark made his way up to his bed and stretched out flat, resting two of the chilly objects on his chest and one on his head. Ah...feels so good. The red-haired man floofed up said hair once more and laid on top of the covers, breathing shallowly until he slipped into a light and uneasy sleep.


	2. Type O

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark finds out he's a werewolf, and an Omega at that.

By ten the following morning, Mark was extremely puzzled. The fever wasn’t like any he’d ever had before, with maybe chills or nausea or just that feeling you got when you were sick. No, Mark had realized that he felt fine aside from being very, very warm. What in the actual fuck?! He thought as he drove to the doctor’s office wearing shorts and a tank top.

“And you are?” the receptionist asked, pushing her glasses up and fixing Mark with a jaded look.

“Mark Fischbach, I need a walk-in appointment. For what, I’m not sure, aside from the fact that I have a fever.” He floofed his hair absentmindedly while the woman typed, which seemed to take an eternity. Finally, she looked up and plastered a fake smile on her face. “Dr. Bell is going to see you now.”

The doctor in question was fairly young, about Mark’s age, and was quite pale with his very dark brown hair cut short. “Hi, I’m Dr. Bell, or you’re welcome to call me Josh. What are you having trouble with today?”

Mark shifted. “Well, I have no idea what’s going on! I have a fever, since I’m practically on fire here, but that’s it. No nausea, no bad feeling. In fact…” he thought for a moment, “it almost feels good. It’s really strange.” He floofed his hair nervously.

Dr. Bell smiled and performed a quick checkup on him, frowning at the results. “Your heart rate is 5% faster than normal, which makes sense considering your nervousness...everything else except the temperature is the same. The thing is, with a 112-degree fever, you ought to be bedridden, but you’re not…” He tapped his chin. “I’m going to refer you to a center that specializes in unique medical conditions, it’s only about an hour’s drive away from here.”

Putting away his equipment quickly, he handed Mark the center’s card and scrawled a quick note on it, drawing a box with a question mark inside at the end. “There you go! And come back if you need anything anytime, it was great to meet you, Mark!” The doctor had an effusiveness to him that was practically infectious.

“You as well, Josh!” The two shook hands, and Mark left the building feeling much happier.

*****

Peering over the steering wheel, the red-haired man nodded anxiously. “This is it,” he said aloud to himself. The building on the outside was fairly small and nondescript, bearing no markings except for a small sign on the door. Viewed from more than ten feet away, it could have been practically anything.

Pushing open the door, Mark was relieved to find that the lobby was deserted. The man at the front desk greeted him with a smile, and when the Youtuber handed him Josh’s card he nodded. “Ok, gonna be the third door on the left, good luck!” Mark’s heart clenched at the last part, but he steeled himself and walked down the clean linoleum hallway, stopping at the correct door.

Inside, there was a woman with short blonde hair in an edgy style. She looked up as he entered, and her eyes widened slightly. “Hi, I’m Hannah!” she exclaimed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “How can I help you?” She listened patiently as she talked about his issue, nodding periodically. When he was finished, she gave him a grin.

“I’m not sure whether to tell you it’s your lucky or unlucky day, but I’m going to hand it to you straight. Mark, you are a werewolf.” He gaped at her, unable to make a sound. “I knew as soon as you came in here, because I could scent you, but your story confirmed it for sure.”

Mark finally, meekly picked a question out of the thousand that were bouncing around inside his skull. “Does that mean I’m going to...you know...turn into a wolf?”

Hannah laughed, shaking her head. “No, it doesn’t. We can access our wolf forms, but only briefly and when under great duress. It’s a sort of self defense mechanism. But it mainly means that you were born with a gene that activates mutation, causing some of your DNA to become more like that of a wolf’s. It typically happens anywhere from the ages of 15-25, so you’re a very slight late bloomer, but nothing to worry about.”

“But then you’re…” Mark pointed from himself to her, provoking another laugh. “Yes, I am also a werewolf, an Alpha. I’m the Director for Werewolf Identification here at the LA branch. We have doctors planted secretly in offices all across the country, and when a patient comes in with those symptoms our agents refer them to their nearest Supernatural Center. Which, for you, is here!”

Finally, the questions exploded out of Mark. “Was Josh an agent? Is he a werewolf? What do I do now? Why do I have a fever then? What’s an Alpha and all that?”

Hannah grinned and ticked off the answers. “Yes, no (he’s a vampire actually), and the rest are more complicated. We’ll come back to the fever in a minute. As for what you do now, the answer is simple. You’ll just continue to live your normal life, but maybe some of it will be less normal. You could...join a pack. Go to werewolf bars (yes, those exist). Attend werewolf life support group meetings, I don’t know.”

Mark nodded, a large part of his fears soothed. “And the Alpha thing?”

“Well, it’s like the same hierarchy system that wolves have. Alphas are dominant personalities and people who are often leaders of a pack or other organization, and they compose two out of five werewolves. Betas are neither mostly dominant or submissive, and they make up another two out of five.” She took a breath. “Omegas are more complicated. They’re rarer, only one in five, and usually have a submissive personality.” 

The red-haired man nodded, absorbing all of this slowly. “Ok, so why do I have a fever?”

Hannah nodded. “It’s an uncomfortable conversation for some people, so are you ok with discussing it?” Mark agreed. “Ohhhkay. So, when your DNA becomes more wolfish, you adopt wolfish traits. Well, one of these is, um, ‘going into heat,' or going into rut if you're an Alpha.” 

Mark gasped. “Whoa, whoa, wait. So I’m...I’m…”

“You’re in the beginning stages of it, yes. It’s something very normal, and I’ll get to some of the significance of it in a moment. During heat or rut, you tend to be hungrier, hotter, and less in control of your actions. However, the main symptom is, er, increased sexual desire.” Mark could only stand there, head swimming. “A few things to know - one, the type of werewolf you are will matter when it comes to relationship compatibility. Alphas are attracted to Omegas and vice versa, while Betas are generally attracted to other Betas. Two, if you are around another of your compatible type and they are also in heat, then it can be very difficult to resist...the urge.”

“Is there any goddamn fix for that?!” Mark exclaimed.

“Yes, you can take pills called suppressants that will stifle the desire. However, because you are fighting your natural instincts they can cause mild nausea or pain.” Hannah glanced over at him before continuing. “There are a few more things related to this. First, there is something called a true bond, and this only happens between compatible types. If you meet someone and form a true bond with them, 99% of the time you will end up being in a relationship. Second, there are some mating rituals associated with the true bond, such as bite or scent bonding, giving each other claiming objects, or, erm, breeding if the relationship has progressed. However, this is only possible with males and females.”

Mark sat down. “Anything else?”

Hannah sighed. “Yes. We’re going to draw some blood to determine your type for sure, I’ll get you some suppressants if you want to use them, and then I’ll refer you to some support groups.”

As they sat in the lab, red liquid trickling from the Youtuber’s arm, Hannah mentioned some facts. “Did you know that blood types actually correspond to social type? Like most of the time, Alphas have Type A blood, Betas have Type B blood, and Omegas have Type O blood.”

Mark nodded, only halfway paying attention, when the tech opened the door to collect the blood. “What about AB?” Mark asked absently, scratching his ear. Hannah shrugged and answered, “They’re sometimes Betas and sometimes Alphas.” She leaned forward uncomfortably.

“There’s one other thing you should know and be wary of. Even though we haven’t done the blood tests yet...I can smell your scent, and it’s definitely not Alpha. To me, it smells like Omega.”

Mark shrugged. “So what? It’s just my personality type, yeah?”

Hannah shook her head worriedly, and bit her lip. “Omegas, because of their submissive nature, are often bullied, taken advantage of, or abused. I’ve seen Omegas treated like inferior beings, pushed around, and even...raped.” She looked away, her cheeks tinted with red. “All I’m saying is, if I’m right...be careful, Mark.”

Mark swore softly, leaning back in his seat and nodded numbly. “I will...I promise.” 

With that, there was a knock on the door, and the tech came in wearing an apologetic face.


	3. The Life of an Omega

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark realizes how bad being an Omega can get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEXUAL CONTENT WARNING! BEEP BEEP!

Four hours later, Mark Fischbach was sitting at home in mild pain, flicking through trashy TV and grimacing. Unfortunately, Hannah had informed him that the suppressants shouldn’t be mixed with any pain relievers. Just absolutely great. Fucking great.

Then, suddenly, the reminder flashed through his head again. OH MY GOD JACK! IN THREE DAYS! FUCK FUCK FUCK! 

“Markiplier, calm down, dammit!” He said aloud, doing his best to squash down the growing panic. Ok. Jack will be here in three days. I will pretend that I am just feeling mildly ill and take the maximum dose of suppressants. It will be fine. And Jack isn’t a werewolf or anything, so I shouldn’t get, you know, horny around him.

Everything swirled in his head, and he clamped down on the facts to keep his brain from exploding. My name is Markiplier, I am an Omega werewolf. I learned this today. My friend Jacksepticeye will be coming over in three days, and we will spend the week together.

With his head clear, Mark rose to go cook himself some dinner.

*****

Mark entered the Tooth and Claw Bar nervously, keeping his hair tucked under a baseball hat and wearing contacts. He was also wearing skinny jeans, wheelie sneakers, and a beat-up-hoodie that he had bought at a teen clothing store. Whew. The bartender eyed him skeptically, but when he showed him an ID nodded and pulled Mark a house-brewed beer. 

Downing a large gulp, Mark looked around and was surprised to see a variety of people. Buff, slim, male, female, rich, poor, they all mingled together. For his own part, the Youtuber was content to sit and watch, but it wasn’t long before a female werewolf came up to him. “Hey there handsome, wanna dance?” She flashed him a sparkly wink. Mark shook his head and politely replied, “I’m good, thanks.” Her alluring expression quickly changed to angry disappointment, and she waved her hand dismissively. “Omega bitch.”

Mark sat frozen for what felt like an eternity, the words striking fear into his heart. They know, they know, and they hate me. He could feel the heat on his cheeks as the wolves around him chucked, and in a flash Mark downed the last of his beer and decided to step outside. God, it’s hot. As he exited the doorway, jeers sounded from behind him. “Get back here, Omega! Face us!” “Bet he’s gonna go run up to his Alpha for comfort.” “Anyone wanna bet he comes back here with a bite mark and a sore ass?” Every hurtful comment pounded another nail into the wound that had opened.

Mark was about to start running away, tears streaming down his face and shaking, when he heard a small yelp that sounded like pain. Instantly on alert, his tears dried up, and he strained his ears. A soft whine, there it was! Behind the bar! 

The Youtuber carefully crept up the side of the bar, feet light on the pavement. He had to fight his instincts every step of the way, forcing his feet forward. Being an Omega, his body tried to choose the flight reaction, and Mark had to completely resist it. After a few more agonizing steps, he was standing by the back right corner of the Tooth and Claw. Here goes. He peeked around the peeling wall, and could barely contain a gasp of shock and horror.

On the ground was a young man, practically still a boy, with a cloth stuffed in his mouth so he didn’t make any noise, in a kneeling position. And above him, humping the victim, was a bearded man who had his head back and his eyes closed. Rape… Mark remembered what Hannah had told him, and he was sure this was that.

Barely knowing what he was doing, his rage giving him control of his muscles once more, Mark rushed forward and shoved the rapist back, punching him in the face left and right, ignoring the voices that screamed at him to run, run away. “How could you do that?! How?!” He hissed at the man, giving him a final slam to the skull. 

The words were slurred, but they made it out of the man’s house before he dropped to the ground unconscious. “Wha? He’s just an Omega slut, doesn’t matter what I do ta him.” Mark had a flashback to Hannah’s words, remembering. “I’ve seen Omegas treated like inferior beings...pushed around...raped…”

Spitting with pure disgust, Mark turned around to find that the shaking victim had put his pants back on. “Go home, kid,” the red-haired man said more gently. “Come on now, get going. You don’t need to thank me.”

Nodding, the boy started running the other way at top speed into the night. Mark sighed, feeling the new bruises he had acquired, and limped to the nearest bus stop. So this is the life of an Omega.


	4. A Stiff Embrace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack arrives at Mark's house, and is immediately concerned for him and suspicious of his behavior.

! Jack’s POV !

“Fookin ‘ell,” Jack grumbled again, after a new packing configuration failed and he couldn’t close his suitcase, causing the pill bottles to spill out. “Maybe if I just somehow make the socks smaller?” He repacked the pills, then removed several pairs and rerolled them even more tightly than before, securing them with rubber bands. Stuffing them into the cracks of his suitcase, he sat on top of the bright green luggage and tugged on the zipper as hard as he could. “Come on, ye bastard!” He yelled frustratedly, and the zipper slid around to meet its twin. “LIKE A BOSS!” He shouted, pumping both fists into the air. 

Standing, he looked down at his bright green watch and swore. “Shite, gotta get to the airport! God, how the time flies.” Seizing his duffel and the matching overstuffed bag, Jack practically ran out the door in his haste.

*****

When Jack finally got off the plane, Mark was standing there holding up a sign that had a septic eye on it. Laughing, the Irishman walked over and extended his arms to pull his red-haired friends into a hug. Mark stiffened as Jack embraced him, seeming uncomfortable. Sensing it, the green-haired Youtuber withdrew.

Jack felt his cheeks go hot, and he looked down at the ground. “Mark, I’m really sorry, I-”

“It’s nothing you did!” Mark squeaked quickly. “I’m just sick is all, and I just don’t want you to catch it. Trust me, if I could hug you, I would.” Mark managed to take Jack’s bags for a few seconds, but when his friend noticed he demanded them back upon pain of death. Sighing, Mark compromised by relinquishing one of them, and by the time they made it back to Mark’s car the weary Jack had perked up considerably. The energetic Irishman slid into the shotgun seat and immediately shivered, noticing the AC on full blast. “I know it’s hot an’ all, but can I turn it up just a bit?” Mark nodded quickly, and his friend toned down the chilliness.

“So how’ve ye been holdin’ up, Mark?” Jack asked in a friendly tone. The question still made the red-haired man bristle with nervousness, but he managed to answer smoothly, “Pretty well, still doing the same old Youtube thing. You?” Mark absentmindedly floofed his hair, a nervous habit.

“About similar for me, moved into a new apartment a few months ago but ye already knew that. How’s Chica?” Mark laughed. “Still the same old adorable fluffball as ever.”

They talked for a few more minutes, laughing and swapping jokes, before Jack hesitantly said, “I don’t mean to come across as offendin’ ye, Mark, but ye don’t seem that sick. If anything, ye seem a bit brighter than normal.”

Mark shrugged, hiding his growing panic, and replied with a careful light rasp, “The magic of prescription cold relievers is powerful, what can I say? I’m certainly not complaining about it.” 

Jack laughed and nodded, and before long the two had reached Mark’s house. This time, his guest took both of his bags, ignoring his feeble objections. Oh well. 

When they stepped over the threshold, Chica greeted them eagerly, and Jack put down the bags to pat his friend’s adorable dog before following Mark to the guest room, where the red-haired man started showing him where everything was. “And under the cabinet you can find-” Mark suddenly doubled over, falling onto the tile floor. For a moment, Jack was too shocked to move, but then he sprang into action. “MARK?! MARK! Are ye okay?! Say something, Mark, say something!!!” He shook the red-haired Youtuber by the shoulders until Mark sat up, forcedly laughing. “Ah, my sense of coordination,” he sighed ruefully, making it over to the couch. 

“I’m really sorry about that, I got a little bit nauseous so I ended up losing my balance.” Mark shot Jack an awkward smile, and the green-haired Irishman returned it. “Ye sure gave me a right scare there, Markimoo. Ye did.” Then his tone became serious. “Mark, are ye sure you’re ok? Have ye gone to a doctor? Gotten this checked out?”

Mark waved away his concerns, resisting the urge to spill everything to Jack (why?) and instead explaining, “Yes, I went to the doctor. Yes, I got it checked out. Yes, it’s just some nasty virus that’ll pass over soon. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.” He grinned at Jack, who eased up slightly but didn’t entirely let go of his concern for Mark.

That night, since Jack ordered Mark not to attempt cooking for them, they ordered Chinese food and shoveled it in straight from the boxes, giggling the whole time. After dinner, Mark and Jack played Happy Wheels together, not recording but simply enjoying themselves.


	5. Pills Be Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark and Jack play Bean Boozled; they have a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES I KNOW IT'S PRACTICALLY THE SAME AS THE ORIGINAL, I'M SORRY IF THAT'S BAD
> 
> FEEL HAPPY YOU GET A NEW GOLDEN CHAPTER

! Mark’s POV !

As he lay in bed that night, the red-haired man sighed deeply at himself. Having Jack here was amazing, but it was going to take a toll on his mental and physical health. Is it worth it? He wondered. Yes. Even if it wasn’t, I’m not sure I could bring myself to kick him out.

He put that matter aside, and then turned to the important thing on his mind. Why is the pain so much worse when Jack is around? The answer is obvious, duh. Mark blushed as his own mind thrust the evidence at him, sighing again. You have a massive crush on Jack, so it takes more effort to suppress your...desires.

“Damn it all. To hell.” Mark mumbled the words out loud into the darkness, and turned over onto his stomach. That one small thing made him smile, as it reminded him that, if nothing else, his life was the farthest thing from a broken record these days.

******

In the morning, Jack shambled down the stairs to find Mark flipping pancakes a foot in the air. “Hi, sleep well?” Mark asked, without looking away from the delicious disks he was ostentatiously showing off.

“Pretty well actually, you?” Mark nodded in reply, bringing the pancake down to the pan once more and transferring it to a platter already heaped with them. “Breakfast is served!” the Youtuber declared, bringing it to a table set for two that already had eggs and bacon ready to eat. Jack’s eyes widened, and he started quickly digging in. Ha, Mark’s a slow eater. Bet I can eat three in the time it takes him to eat one. Before long, he had the pancake trio down the hatch along with two pieces of bacon and almost a pound of eggs. 

Already slapping a mocking grin onto his face, Jack looked up at Mark’s plate while faux-casually reaching for another pancake. 

And he almost gasped in shock. Not only was Mark’s plate already clean, Jack couldn’t feel any more pancakes. Looking down, he saw that there were only a few strips of bacon left, a single pancake, and no eggs at all. “Holy fookin ‘ell, Mark!” Jack exclaimed, genuinely impressed. “Where’d you learn ta eat like that?!”

The half Korean shrugged, and answered humbly as he always did. “I guess I was just really hungry, being sick and all.” Standing, he started to clear the table. Jack moved to help him, waving off his host’s objections yet again, and before long the kitchen was clean. Mark was practically panting, seeing as he had tried to do all the dishes before Jack could get to them.

“So, Jackaboy, what do you want to do?” Mark asked in his deep suave voice. “Play a game, record something, go out somewhere?” The red-haired man almost made a face at the last option, but desisted.

Jack’s eyes lit up, and he practically dragged Mark to his recording studio. “Okay, Mark, we’re gonna record a fun video! I was thinkin’ mebbe a Truth or Dare sorta thing? Or like Bean Boozled?”

Mark suggested shyly, “What if we combine the two? You either have to answer the question, or eat two beans, how about that for a dare? God, I still remember the skunk bean…” He winced at the thought. Jack gave him a hearty thumbs up, and one of his cute little grins.

Once everything had been set up, Mark tapped the button to start recording. “Hello people, my name is-”

Jack chimed, “Markimooey the Great! Top of the morning to ye laddies!” Mark mock-sighed, turning back to the camera. “Now today we’re going to be playing Bean Boozled Truth or Dare…”

After they had explained the rules, Mark asked the first question. “Truth or Dare?” Jack squirmed for a minute, hands pressed to his face, before blurting, “Truth! God, I hope that wasn’t a mistake…”

Mark grinned wickedly and asked, “Have you ever kissed a guy?” 

Jack was taken aback, but answered, “Yes, a few times. Unfortunately, no one has deemed me worthy to be kissed first yet.” He shot a wink at Mark that communicated ‘Fuel the Septiplier shippers, they love that shit!’

Mark winked back and replied in his sexiest voice, “You should have told me off-camera, baby, because then you wouldn’t be able to say that anymore.” Jack swatted at Mark jokingly, and asked him, “Truth or Dare?”

Mark replied with an air of confidence, “Dare! Hand me the spinner.” Mark gulped. “Ok, first one’s Booger or Juicy Pear...whew! I love pear. Second one...the blue fruity one or toothpaste. Ack! Toothpaste is disgusting.” He winced and swallowed.

“Are you kidding me?!” Jack cried in indignation. “The toothpaste ones are absolutely delicious! I’d eat them every day if I could. 100% true.” He grinned at Mark, who swatted him playfully as payback. The two of them continued like that for over ten minutes, trying not to gag and laughing in equal measure.

At the end of the video, Jack asked Mark the last question. “Truth or Dare?” Jack waggled his eyebrows. “Truth,” he answered, and looked at the camera. “Last one! Please don’t let it be too bad.”

Jack decided to spare him, and asked, “Have you ever seen anything that’s supposed to be a myth in real life? You know, ghosties and all that?”

Mark immediately turned three shades paler, and his hands turned clammy. Fortunately, his acting talent saved him, and he was able to stammer out a story about seeing some translucent figure in the forest as a kid. They said their outros, and then Mark hastily ended the recording.

“Mark, are ye all right? Truly? When I asked ye that last question ye turned white as a sheet.” Jack spoke with true concern in his voice.

Mark nodded slowly, floofing his hair as he always did when stressed or nervous. “It’s just, with being sick and all, the week is going to be a difficult one. But it’s fine, only a nausea flash. Nothing to worry over.” He gave Jack a smile, but it wasn’t returned this time.

His friends sighed. “Mark…” he said slowly, “can we play a game of Truth or Truth with just us?” Mark nodded, and Jack asked, “Truth or Truth?” 

“I think we can skip the choice, seeing as it’s not much of a choice,” Mark said dryly. “All right, all right. Mark, are ye doing drugs or smoking or otherwise hurting yourself?” Jack bit his lip, staring intensely at his half Korean friend.

The red-haired man buckled, feeling the strange compulsion to reply again. “I’m not doing drugs or smoking, aside from my prescription.” Mark snorted. “And I’m not cutting myself or anything, not doing any direct harm to myself.”

“...what about indirect harm?” Jack asked, his eyes filled with worry.

Mark sighed. “It’s for the greater good, so you actually enjoy your stay here. God, I don’t know what you would think if I wasn’t…”

Jack’s eyes flashed angry and hot, and he stepped closer to the red-haired man. “I don’t bloody care whatever the fook it is, stop it right fookin now! Is it yer prescription?” He stared Mark in the eyes, and when his friend couldn’t say no, he stormed up the stairs to Mark’s bathroom. The pill bottle was hard to find, but when he did so he slipped it into his pocket. There. Safe.


	6. Untold Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack shares that he is also a werewolf; Mark starts to act very strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First real story divergence! Here, Jack doesn't know yet that Mark is actually an Omega...

! Switching POV !

When Jack came downstairs, Mark blurted, “Did you take the pills?!”. When his friend nodded, he started having a panic attack , and he ran over to the Irishman almost crying. “Please please please, Jack, please give them back, I need them, they’re important.” He lunged for Jack’s pocket, but his friend swatted his hand away.

“Mark! What the ‘ell do ye think yer doing? Look, I don’t know what those pills have in ‘em, but they aren’t good for ye.” Jack shook his head firmly, and guided Mark into the living room.

“Mark, I need to ask ye something. Were the pills causing you the nausea, and the pain?” He held his friend’s head up. “MARK!” The red-haired man was shocked, and he mumbled, “Yeah.”

“What the fook is gonna happen if you don’t take them? Will ye die?” Jack looked seriously at Mark, who shook his head. “Can’t say, it’s embarrassing, but I need them. I won’t die, though, but Jack I NEED THEM!” He whimpered and clutched Jack’s arm.

Heart breaking, Jack murmured, “One more question, okay? Will ye be in more pain than ye were if ye don’t take them?” Mark shook his head. “I’ll be very happy, most probably, for a little bit. But afterwards...maybe, maybe not. Depends on what happens.”

Jack wanted to blow up at Mark, but he carefully calmed himself. “Mark, will ye please tell me what the fook happens? Now? I have a right to know, as yer friend.” He crossed his arms.

Mark sighed and floofed his hair, forced answer yet again. “Fine. It’s embarrassing, but I suppose you’re right…” he cleared his throat. “When I don’t have my pills, it will probably cause me to act a little loopy. I won’t have much control over my actions anymore. And, I’ll be...a bit horny. So you’re going to want to be ready to throw me into the basement or something, lock me in a closet or whatever.”

Jack wanted to laugh, but he was shocked. It had just hit him like a bullet. Mark has been hot, he’s been hungry, and he’s been taking those pills...god, how did I not put two and two together? It’s so obvious now when I look at it.

“Mark?” His friend turned to look at him, cheeks hot with shame. Jack’s heart broke slightly, and then he asked the question. “Are ye a werewolf?”

Mark couldn’t think anything except OHMYGODHEKNOWSNONONONOPLEASENO, and he slumped to the floor. “Yes. How the hell did you know?” he whispered, shaking with sobs. “Doesn’t matter, I guess, you’ll go and tell everyone, and that will be it for my channel, my life, and-”

Jack broke in. “MARK!” He thundered. “I know because I’m one too. Jaysus, how did I not fookin notice it earlier? I’m a fookin idiot, I suppose, chalk it up ta that. Anyways, I’ll be here for ye, don’t worry.” He rubbed Mark’s shoulder, reassuring him.

The half Korean looked up at Jack in wonder, eyes red from crying. “T-thank you, Jack. Thank you.” He broke down crying into the Irishman’s shirt, and the two of them stayed locked together for several minutes. Then Jack gently pushed Mark off.

“There are a few things we have to discuss. I didn’t realize these pills were yer suppressants, ye can have them back now. But...how long has it been since yer last heat?”

Mark mumbled, “Never, this is my first one. I was recognized as a werewolf only three days ago, when I went into the doctor’s office for my fever.”

Jack gasped slightly. “Ye won’t have em back then, because yer first one is important. Now, I think yer an Omega, that’s right?” Mark froze for a moment, and remembered the back alley of the Tooth and Claw. What if Jack is like that? What if he...he shook his head. “No, I’m a Beta, but the doctor told me that my smell is kind of Omega-ish due to a mildly unusual chemical balance or something like that.” He was surprised at how easily the lie rolled off his tongue.

Jack shrugged. “Well that’s definitely better, considering that I’m an Alpha. Anyway, I’ll stay here and take care of ye, although my rut may trigger because of yer heat, ok?” Mark nodded, blowing out a strained breath, and Jack’s heart twanged in sympathy. “I’ll look after ye and make sure ye don’t get into trouble.”

Mark replied simply, “Thank you.”

******

Several hours later, Mark started to lose control. He was happy, babbling nonsensically. “Eggs, bacon, love eggs and bacon. Eggs, bacon, bacon, eggs, eggs, eggs, bacon bacon, egss!” He skipped over to Jack and whined, nuzzling at the Irishman’s neck. “Jack smells good, like cake and sunshine. Mate? Please, need mate, need need need mate, need!”

“Well, now the horny phase has started,” Jack said out loud. He turned to Mark and shook his head. “No, no, no. No mate.” Mark whimpered and climbed onto the Irishman, arms wrapped around his waist. “Please mate? Please please mate? Please please please?” Jack quickly pushed Mark away, and his friend dropped to the floor without protest. 

The red-haired man circled the couch restlessly, whimpering and asking to have sex with Jack every other minute and asking him if he wanted a drink or food or anything. This is going to be a long week, Jack thought, but it will definitely be worth it.

*******

The next morning, Mark had a few minutes of clarity. He profusely apologized for his behavior, which Jack shrugged off. The red-haired man was still clearly nervous, though, as he moved around the kitchen spastically. Jack sighed. “Mark, what’s wrong?”

His half Korean friend yelped. “Nothing, nothing! Just a bit nervous, scared, and you know, still embarrassed and all.” He swooped down and deposited eggs onto Jack’s plate, but one of them missed and hit the floor, where Chica bolted for it and started consuming the egg eagerly. Sighing, Mark grabbed himself breakfast and started eating.

As Mark came close to Jack, the green-haired man caught a whiff of something. Confused, he subtly took a sniff. Cologne? Something like that...oh! Masking his scent, of course, it will help me not go into heat. Jack smiled and remarked, “Thank you for using cologne, it’s really considerate. Not to mention smart.” Mark panicked for a second, puzzled as well, but swiftly slapped a smile onto his face. “Of course! It’s nice of you to stay here and all.”

After eating, Mark seemed apprehensive, like he was waiting for something. Jack shot him a glance. “What’s up?” His friend adjusted his glasses and asked, “Is it all right if we go outside, get some fresh air? I just feel so cooped up in the house.”

“Of course! Sorry, I didn’t really think about it. The park, maybe?” Mark nodded, and the two men grabbed a few items before walking out the door.


	7. Cold, Hard Bricks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark runs away and has an unpleasant experience; the truth is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I promised I wouldn't hurt Markimoo to some of you, so I sincerely apologize for torturing you, but technically haven't violated my promise! Just for disclaimer purposes so I can sue if my head is on a spike by tomorrow... ;)

“So have ye thought about visiting any werewolf congregation places? There are guaranteed to be lots in a city as large as LA.” Jack inquisitively glanced at Mark, who stiffened. It won’t hurt to tell the truth, he thought. “I went to a bar called the Tooth and Claw, but...it wasn’t a very nice place. Kinda dinky and mean.”

Jack sighed, “Ahh, sorry man. But ye should try another, a lot of places are really great. Go, enjoy a drink, and maybe even enjoy some action, eh?” He nudged Mark, who felt slightly sick inside. He’s just like all the other Alphas, isn’t he? Strutting around, kidnapping helpless Omegas, and using them for his own nauseating purposes.

Mark had to turn away for a moment, feigning a coughing fit, before staring straight ahead, his gaze chilly. Jack noticed it, and sighed. “I’m sorry if I sprang that on ye, Mark, I know yeh’re still adjusting to everything.” He looked around for a conversation topic. “So do ye come to this park often?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes, it’s a nice place to go when you need to think about something or enjoy a sunny afternoon.” Jack snickered. “Sounds like the definition of a park, doesn’t it? Ah well, sounds nice.” When Mark offered no reply, he clapped his hands together. “Why don’t we head somewhere better than that dirty little bar? I can show you the cool part of being a werewolf.”

Mark was filled with fury, and he turned a steely gaze on Jack. “No. No, no, no. You can’t get me near one of those places, I won’t do it, I WON’T!” He screamed at the Irishman, then took off running. Jack couldn’t even chase him, he was rooted by the shock. Mark had reacted so violently, it was practically unimaginable coming from the gentle Youtuber. The question was now, what the hell had happened at that bar?!

*******

The red-haired werewolf finally stopped for breath, panting on the sidewalk. It was starting to get dark, and he had ran maybe half a mile. Would it be enough? It would have to do for now. Leaning against the brick wall of a psychic shop, the pounding in his chest finally started to subside. Mark tried his best to ignore the waves of guilt washing over him about running away on Jack, and the fact that he wanted nothing more than to return to the Irishman. Damn, being an Omega fucking sucked.

Suddenly, a hand tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, you okay?” Mark thought it was Jack for one terrifying second, but it turned out to be a blonde-haired young man. “You look a little ill.” 

The Youtuber shook his head. “Nope!” he said with false cheeriness. “I’m just working on running a dozen miles, and taking my halfway break. Thank you, though, I appreciate the gesture.”

The blonde shrugged. “There’s no need to thank me, I’m sure you won’t be in a few minutes. Just making sure you weren’t suffering from any...diseases…” Before Mark had time to react, the man pinned him against the bricks and grinned. “What’s your name?” 

“Fuck. You.” He thrashed desperately, but the blonde was stronger than he looked. Snapping, he asked in a commanding tone, “What’s. Your. Name?” The compulsion slapped his brain again, and almost without thinking he answered, “Mark.”

“Well, Mark, isn’t it your lucky day? If I hadn’t snagged you, I’m sure someone far worse would have.” He kissed Mark’s cheek, breathing in his scent. “Ah, that’s lovely. You scent like a jungle beach!”

Mark squirmed, trying to wriggle away, but the blonde held him firmly against the wall with one hand and his legs as he reached down with the other to unbutton the Omega’s shirt. “Look, I’ll give you whatever you want, just leave me alone!” The Alpha chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re giving me exactly what I want, right now, little Omega. Sorry, but I’m not going to turn up a fresh bitch.” Clearly growing weary of the buttons, he ripped the shirt right off, sending a few buttons clattering to the pavement.

Looking around, the Alpha pulled Mark onto the side street they were standing close to. Mark wanted to cry, sob, just shut down, and it took an enormous amount of willpower to fight his self-preservation instincts. Pulling him closer, the blonde unzipped Mark’s pants and pulled them down to his feet. “That’s better, isn’t it? Much better.” Grabbing Mark’s head by his hair, he forced the Youtuber towards the ground. “You know what to do now, don’t you Omega?”

Mark lost it then and burst into tears, his body hesitantly propping itself into the right position. Please, he thought, save me now. Please.

Then, as if hearing his plea, a blur passed him and his attacker fell. Mark couldn’t see much of what was happening, but quickly pulled his pants back up and warily crouched, holding back a whimper of fear.

As his saviour delivered a final punch, the attacker went to the ground, out cold. Mark prepared to run, when a haunted face turned its eyes on him. Soft green hair, ruffled now from the combat, and his lip bleeding. Jack.

For a moment the two men regarded one another, and then Jack knelt, bringing Mark into a warm hug. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “When I knew, I came as fast as I could.”

“How did you know?” Mark murmured, face buried in Jack’s tee. “You couldn’t have heard it or anything…”

“I felt it. It sometimes happens between two werewolves, but...it’s only usually in a bond, which puzzles me. Alphas and Betas can have bonds, but it wouldn’t be strong enough to alert me half a mile away…” Jack sighed. “Mark, are ye truly an Omega?”

Mark whispered, barely audible to Jack, “Yes.” He started shaking, sobs wracking his broad frame. “I was too scared to tell you.” The Irishman ran his hands through Mark’s hair, and gave him gentle words. “It’s ok, Mark. Ye told me now, and I’m glad for that, but I would have probably done the same if I were you.” He pulled Mark to his feet.

Jack smiled, a wobbly grin. “Come on now, let’s get ye home. After all, Chica’s waiting for us.”


	8. Fifty-Fifty Odds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack comforts Mark, and soothes his fear. However, this takes its toll on Jack's emotional strength.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, Valerie_Guerra, how have you done it?! Knowing me, it's probably obvious, but whatever you've done is pretty neat!
> 
> Enjoy, grab a biscuit and tea, and settle in for an emotional whirlwind! (sorry...)

Mark was asleep upstairs, tucked in snugly after Jack had made him drink some soup. The Irishman was sitting on the couch watching the first episode of a show he had wanted to try, but wasn’t really paying attention. All he grasped so far is that there were some nerdy kids and a strange-looking girl wolfing fries at a diner. Sigh.

The images cycled in his head over and over, making Jack want to rip out his frontal lobe. According to phone guy, that might not solve the issue, but when had the mysterious voicemail-leaving man ever been trustworthy? Rubbing his forehead, Jack jumped when loud synth music started playing, and switched off the TV for fear that it might wake up Mark.

Jack swiped a pillow, stuffing it underneath his head, and laid down on top of the cushions. Without even intending for it to happen, his eyes started to drift shut.

******

In the middle of the night, Jack awoke to a panicked cry and the smell of terrified Omega. “No! No no no, please, PLEASE!” He was halfway up the stairs in the blink of an eye, and sprinted over to Mark’s room. Inside, the red-haired man was thrashing under the covers. Jack went to his side and put a hand on his chest, stroking the Youtuber’s hair. “Shh, Markimoo, it’s me. It’s ok, it’s ok. The bad things are over now.” Mark’s eyes snapped open, and he almost wept tears of relief. Sitting up, he mumbled, “I don’t think it’s long-term or anything, because I’m already blocking it out, but I just can’t sleep tonight.”

“Want to come downstairs and watch something with me?” Mark nodded, and the bounce in his step returned. Jack turned the TV back on, and together they watched a surprisingly good reboot of some old science show. The green-haired man was still trembling slightly from the fright, but then again so was Mark. 

As the host explained the event horizon on the screen, Jack poured himself and Mark a glass of milk each, stirring in a touch of nutmeg for each. The American shot him a puzzled glance, and the Irishman shrugged. “Something I read in a magazine on the plane, it’s supposed to help you sleep. I didn’t want to give ye any drugs, considering the circumstances.” Mark nodded and downed it in three gulps, turning back to the TV and leaning on Jack’s shoulder. “Is this ok?” he asked meekly, and the other werewolf smiled gently. “Of course it is, Mark.”

The Omega fell asleep soon after that, and Jack arranged him in what he hoped was a comfortable position, wrapped in a blanket with his head supported by two pillows. It would have to do. The Alpha stayed alert, watching Mark snore softly and glancing at the TV (he had muted the volume).

This is going to be a long night, Jack thought heavily. Dammit, Mark, why did ye run off? Come to think of it, why didn’t ye tell me about your being an Omega earlier? Did...did he think I would be like one of the asshole Alphas?

The thought wounded him slightly, and his eyes glimmered with sadness. Oh, Mark, why do I have to love ye so much?

******

Mark woke up two more times during the night, although luckily one of them was to use the restroom. At 9am, he rose for good to find that Jack had fixed a hasty breakfast of cereal and chocolate shakes. “The shakes I grabbed from McDonald’s, but I figured ye might like something simple. Cinnamon Toast Crunch, yer favorite, right?” Mark nodded, surprised, and joked, “Nothing like munching on Ken’s cousins, so delicious.” Jack awarded him with a weary laugh, and the Omega noticed dark circles under the Alpha’s eyes.

“Jack, are you okay? How much sleep did you get last night? I hope you didn’t stay up worrying about me!” His friend shrugged, replying casually, “Maybe three hours or so, but it doesn’t really matter. Don’t get all concerned about me.” Mark sighed and continued eating his cereal, his stomach twisting slightly with worry.

******

Mark pinched his nose several times so that it looked properly red, and nodded. Stepping into his recording room, he clicked the Skype button. Sure enough, Bob and Wade’s faces popped up. “Hey Mark! How’s it going?” Wade asked. “Not great, guys, I think I have to cancel Prop Hunt today, sorry.” He had adopted a nasal tone. “I have a minor cold, nothing bad, but I don’t want to sound like some snobby waiter, is that cool with you guys?” Bob nodded, Wade agreeing after lightly teasing Mark, and he quickly ended the call. 

Jack was sitting in the kitchen with his head lying on the table cradled in his hands. Mark opened his mouth to inquire something, but stopped when he realized that the Alpha was lightly snoring. Better leave him be, he thought. The poor guy’s been through a lot helping me.

******

A grin. “Markiplier, hmm? And I didn’t even know it...well well, I think I’m going to be reporting you to someone. After all, your friend banged up my face quite badly.” Typing sounds. A soft laugh. “That will do nicely...Markiplier, I’m afraid you’re going to regret what you’ve done. Well, I’m not really afraid.” A pause. “Although, of course, you should be.”

******

Jack woke up, rubbing his eyes, and then froze. Chiding himself for falling asleep, he ran around trying to find Mark. Living room? No. Bedroom? No. Studio? No. He gulped, shouting, “Maaaark! Mark! Where are ye?”

The house was silent, and the Irishman felt tears of terror welling at the corners of his eyes. “MARK EDWARD FISCHBACH, IF YE LOVE ME, GET DOWN HERE NOW!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, releasing all the fear, fury, and anxiety that had built up over the past 24 hours. 

When an amused face popped out, Jack wanted to sob with relief. “Sorry,” Mark apologized, “I was just folding some laundry. Are you mad?” “Of course I bloody...no, I’m not,” Jack said quietly, calming his fearful rage. Then, a thought occurred to him. “Wait...does this mean ye love me?”

Mark whipped him with the shirt he was holding. “What do ya think, Jackaboy? I mean, come on, half the world is infatuated with you.” Jack grinned. “Hmm, fifty-fifty odds are pretty good. I’ll take it, Markiplier.”


	9. Diamonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark and Jack goof around, but it becomes serious once the camera stops rolling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY POSTED THIS TO THE WRONG FIC AT FIRST! Enjoy!

“I’m gonna find you, dammit!” Mark growled in frustration. “Where are you, little demon baby? Alien baby, I guess I should say, because you’re probably green right now.” Jack giggled, munching on batteries. “Mmm, tasty bleach, I love it so much.” He shot the camera a mischievous wink. His red-haired friend groaned, running to the cleaning supply closet. “Where the hell are you?!”

Jack had returned home to Ireland after another few days with Mark, and both men were sad to go. They had, however, agreed to do more joint videos, which led to them playing Who’s Your Daddy? together. The green-haired Irishman laughed again as he died, jumping as Mark slammed his hand on his desk. “Dammit, why do I have to be such a bad father? Keeping things like batteries and soap where my child can eat them, leaving bathtubs half-full...Jesus, I’m like a model of the dad you shouldn’t be.”

Mark brightened, though, as the next round started. Being the baby was both his and Jack’s favorite, although his friend seemed happier playing the dad when he was with Mark than he would otherwise normally be. The American crawled upstairs, letting Jack start to empty the cabinets downstairs. “Shite, shite, where are ye? Little fooker.” The Youtuber dashed upstairs to find Mark in the bedroom, opening the drawer that contained a suspiciously shaped purple object. “Nooo, little child! Yer eyes need to be bleached now! Wait, forget I ever said that, yeh’ll start getting bad ideas.” Grabbing the dildo from the baby, he shoved it into a different drawer.

Mark laughed and said, “You know, that should be able to poison me, just by holding that object of phallic filth. Now, where is that bleach you mentioned? After all, it’s the choice between dying of mind poisoning or body poisoning.” Jack yelled in frustration, shouting, “If ye don’t come here right now, kid, I’m going to poison yer little body all right!” He froze, and Mark cracked up. “Meet Jacksepticeye, the biggest creator of dirty fanart in the history of Youtube. I bet every word that comes out of your mouth gets turned into something R-rated.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “And what about ye, Mr. Mountain of Dildos? Let me think of a suitable quote...I’ll do me, and you do you, but we won’t do each other. Probably.” He smirked. “That probably caused a few thousand fangirl hearts to stop, and the rest of ‘em to open a digital drawing tool. Not to mention yer eternally sexy voice?” Mark grinned and used said voice, leaning into the microphone. “I believe you just called my voice sexy, Mr. Jackaboy.”

“And I believe yeh’re made of a potato’s shite, Mr. Markifart.” Jack plugged a fork into the kitchen outlet, causing Mark to seethe at the blackened body. “What would a potato’s shit even be? Vegetables don’t have digestive systems or anything.” Mark tapped his chin. Jack shrugged, answering, “Diamonds, don’t ye think? Potatoes totally shit diamonds.”

Mark’s eyebrows wiggled, and he asked, “Does that mean I’m a diamond to you?” Jack grinned, answering, “Why don’t ye hop onto a ring and we’ll find out?”

******

After the recording had ended, the two sat chatting for a few minutes. “So there’s going to be a convention in London (I think it’s London), and I was wondering if we wanted to do it together,” Mark explained. “I could stay in the city, or at your apartment, although of course I don’t want to impose on your or anything. We both received invitations to the panel, I think, so...what do ya say, Jackaboy?”

The Irishman nodded. “Ye can come and stay at my place, Mark, I’ll cook ye up some proper potatoes. With their powdered shite if I can get ahold of it on the black market.” He coughed, trying to shove out the humorous lines that somehow always snuck their way into his speech. “The convention’s in March, is that right?” Mark nodded, and his keyboard clicked and clacked. “I’ll get a round-trip ticket for a few days before the convention starts. That way we’ll have some time to hang out.” Jack nodded. “By the way, Mark, how are ye dealing with everything? Have ye had any more nightmares?”

Mark shook his head, blushing as he recalled what his dreams were filled with these days. “No, I haven’t at all. Happy, doing well, enjoying sunny LA with some suppressants just in case.” He rubbed at his eye. “I’ve been wanting to ask, Jack...when did you first know you were a werewolf? What happened?” The other werewolf thought for a moment, and then started.

“When I was younger, maybe about twelve years old, I started acting really strange. So my parents took me into the doctor, they referred us to a special diagnosis office, and everything was explained to my family and I. After that, they seemed to accept it pretty easily, and now here I am.” He shrugged, and Mark marveled at how easy it was. No pain, or angst, or difficulty. It was almost too good to be true, like someone had written it in a story.

After a short silence, Jack opened his mouth. Stopped. Closed it again. “No, never mind,” he muttered.

But Mark made a pouty face, entreating, “Jaaaack, what’s wrong? Tell me, come on now.” His friend sighed, rubbing his face, and looked at Mark with little amusement in his eyes. “Mark, I know that we fuel the shippers on purpose, but I think I want to know for sure. Are ye in that fifty percent?” The red-haired man lost his smile, and he looked at the floor. Tell the truth. “...well...yes. I am. Are you in the fifty percent for me?” Jack made a ‘pfft’ noise, causing Mark’s stomach to drop, and easily waved a hand. Inside, he was unimaginably elated.

“For a heartthrob like ye, I think it’s more like a hundred percent of the planet. Some of them just haven’t had the privilege of gazing upon ye yet.” Jack winked. “So...would ye like to play some Kitty Powers Matchmaker when ye come over? Maybe we could set up two men for a date...I’m thinking some interesting candidates that I’ve seen before on the game. One has red floofy hair, and the other man a nice shocking green. What do ye say?” 

Mark smiled warmly. “Sounds like fun.”


	10. Your Lucky Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark arrives in Ireland and has a flashback.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I got it done! (sounds party horns) I will do my best to update these two stories close together, but there are gonna be some weeks where it's a few days apart, I can't do much about it but I offer my condolences to the slightly shunted story! Anyways, hope you enjoy this, give yourself a milkshake!
> 
> (poor Markimoo this chapter though ;-;)

“Welcome to my own personal corner of happiness!” Jack spread his arms wide, causing Mark to laugh. The Irishman’s apartment was well-kept and clean, not to his surprise, although the American did wince slightly at the state of the kitchen. “You do know your knives are starting to show a bit of rust, right?” Jack shrugged, replying, “I don’t cook nearly as often as ye do, so I don’t care that much.” He led Mark over to his tiny guest room, which had just enough room to contain a bed, nightstand, and shallow closet. 

“I know it’s not that much, but will ye be comfortable in here?” Almost without thinking, his friend answered, “Of course, you’re like my personal comfort zone.” Embarrassed, the Omega set his things near the door. “Erm, sorry about that, that was kinda weird.” The Alpha shook his head, smiling. “Don’t worry about it, Markimoo darling, I get plenty weirder.” Jack blew him a kiss, stepping out of the slightly claustrophobic room. 

Dinner was quite casual, with the two werewolves watching Stranger Things and shoveling in takeout. Mark swallowed a large lump of noodles by accident as the creature leapt out, his eyes watering slightly, and his eyes flicked over to Jack, who had clearly jumped back in fright. Laughing lightly, the American remarked, “For someone who’s played horror games a lot, you still seem highly scare-able.” He laughed, swishing soda in his mouth, as Jack rolled his eyes.

“For someone who’s played lots of dating games, ye still seem clueless about how to make a move.” He set down his takeout box, crawling over to a surprised Mark, and kissed him firmly on the lips. 

Pulling back, too soon for the American, Jack crouched over him in an oddly predatory position. “So, is that a good lesson?” Mark looked at him, shocked, and managed a weak grin. “I think so, but it surprised me. Could we go over Section 1.3 again?” Jack bent down once more, and the two Youtubers made out. It was impossibly gentle, with no roughness involved, as light and sweet as lemonade during the summertime. Mark closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling as Jack’s tongue occasionally contacted his.

The Irishman came up for air after about 30 seconds, wiping his mouth and laughing. “Yeh’re like a dog, Markimoo!” He swatted the American gently, who opened his mouth to rebuke Jack. Unfortunately for him, Jack swooped down again before Mark could get a word out, this time actually pressing himself against Mark a little bit.

“Jack, where the hell did you get so good at this?” Mark exclaimed as Jack gently kissed his neck. His crush’s blue eyes sparkled mischievously, and he replied, “Kissing potatoes.” Mark pasued. “Really?” “No, of course not, ye doof. I kissed other people, like a normal teenage werewolf.” Mark winced. “Did you really have to combine the words ‘teenage’ and ‘werewolf’? I mean, come on, that just ruins the mood.” Jack flicked his ear mockingly. 

“Is widdle Markimoo turned off by a crappy vampire romance novel series? Does widdle Markimoo hate creepy hundred-year old sparkly men?” Mark scowled and crossed his arms, giving Jack his best glare. “I’m turned off by the idea of a stinky teenage you making out with some makeup-y girl, of course!” Jack laughed, and wrapped his arms around Mark’s neck so he was essentially curled up on top of the Omega. “Lighten up, redhead, sulking won’t do you any good.”

Mark sighed, reaching out, and gently traced the Alpha’s collarbones with a finger. “I suppose you’re right, Jackaboy.” The green-haired man smirked, and kissed him briefly again. “It’s your lucky day, Markimoo, I suggest you not waste it being jealous of all the high schoolers.” Mark instantly went rigid underneath him, and Jack’s smile slipped. “Come on, snap out of it.” The American seemed unresponsive, head drooping so that his eyes were staring blankly at his thumbs.

A feeling of terror creeping through his chest, Jack started to shake Mark roughly by the shoulders. “Mark! Mark, listen to me! MARK!” He felt tears streaming down his cheeks, and he shook Mark harder and yelled at him again. “Mark...come back…” He leaned in and kissed his Omega, hard and passionate, gripping his broad frame so tightly it would leave bruises.

Finally, when Jack’s lips touched his, Mark opened his eyes. “Jack…” he whispered, slumping against the couch, saltwater leaking from his brown eyes too. The Irishman was still shaking with fear and fury, and he practically shouted, “Mark, what the fook was that? What happened? Why did ye fookin scare me like that, ye bastard?!?!” The red-haired man looked at his shoes, mumbling, “It all came back. The day...the day when it happened. He said almost the same thing.” 

******

As soon as Jack had said “It’s your lucky day,” Mark’s brain yanked him back to the moment in his life he most wanted to forget. Well, Mark, isn’t your lucky day...little Omega...you know what to do know, don’t you? And to avoid the pain, Mark.exe had shut down. Switched to off. Emergency closure.

The next thing he knew, Jack was shaking him and kissing him, and crying profusely. Mark’s heart broke to see his love unhappy, and it jerked him back to the present.

Restart Mark.exe successful.

******

Jack just sat with Mark for a long time. When the American had revealed what happened, he hadn’t said anything. No yelling, no screaming, no more shaking, just silence. The understanding had passed between the two of them, and his only action had been to wrap Mark tenderly in a blanket. As if to protect him from all the bad in the world.

“Jack?” Mark finally asked, blotchy face turned up. “Yes?” his boyfriend replied with immediate concern. “I want to sleep, is that ok?” Jack tenderly brushed his hair out of his face and nodded, replacing his legs with the couch’s cushiest pillow. “Drift off now, Markimoo. Yeh’ll be ok. After all, Jacksepticeye, yer knight in shinin’ armor, is here to protect ye.” He smiled faintly at the sentimentality of it.

Snorting, Mark curled into a little ball. “Well, this princess needs her beauty rest.”


	11. Wherever Ye Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark and Jack have a discussion; they enjoy a morning together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!  
> This is just kind of me talking to you readers, since there's a few things I want to say (it shall be a bit boring and sappy, so if you want to read anything decent I suggest you skip this). First of all, I hope all of you are doing well and happy, and life is good!
> 
> Second of all, I feel bad since this is really overdue, but I want to thank you readers, commenters, and leavers of kudos. I write partially for me, yes, but it makes me so incredibly happy to check my email and see a nice comment, or that someone's left kudos, or even that someone new has taken the time to read this story, it makes my day. Thank you all so much! I still can't believe both of these little stories have so many comments and kudos, it warms my heart and surprises me constantly.
> 
> Now I'm going to stop being horribly mushy and get on to my third point, which I'm sure you're probably grateful for. I know there are a few of you that keep up with this story (both of its versions), and I just want to say that I hope you're still liking it! I get anxious about my writing a lot, because I feel like it could be improved a lot, but I hope it's good enough.
> 
> That's all for now! Take a huge sundae, complete with whatever toppings you want, complimentary just from me, because you deserve it. :)
> 
> \- Masquerade

Mark woke up with a blank mind, fresh and pure as newly fallen snow, for just a moment. Before reality came crashing in, and everything that happened with it. Some good, some bad. The bedsheets were pleasantly warm, but not too hot, the perfect temperature. Wait, Mark thought, the bed? Jack must have moved him during the night. The American opened his eyes and glanced around the room. It was cozy, painted a lime green, and overflowed with little bits and pieces of Jack. Mark smiled. 

“Yer awake, then, Mark?” Startled, the red-haired man looked down to find the Irish Youtuber anxiously sitting on a stool by the foot of the bed. Jack instantly came over to him, handing him a cup of coffee just the way he liked it (a dash of cream with a single sugar cube). After making sure that Mark drank some, Jack retreated to his stool and played with the bracelets he always wore, giving the Omega an occasional worried glance. 

Mark reached over and set down the warm cup, picking up his glasses instead and hooking them snugly behind his ears and over his nose. “Was I asleep for long?” the older man asked softly, a hint of raspiness permeating his voice. Jack shrugged and responded, “No, maybe nine or ten hours. A bit lengthy, but nowhere near to Sleepin’ Beauty.” A smile tugged at his lips momentarily, before a visible weight returned to his blue eyes that had been momentarily lifted by Jack’s wisecrack.

“So...Mark...are ye okay, truly? Do you need a...a therapist? A doctor? Some kind of professional help for ye? Hell, a psychic or some shite like that?” Mark snorted, floofing his hair, and rearranged the pillows so he could sit up comfortably. “I don’t believe a, um, medium would be of any use, seeing as my problems are more earthly.” He blew out a long breath, still toying with his hair. “I...I’m not sure, Jack. The thing is, I’ve been completely fine, it hasn’t weighed on me at all. I think it was just the trigger phrase that caused a sort of flashback, y’know? A pretty specific phrase.”

Jack nodded, and took Mark’s hand in his warm one. “Whatever ye decide to do, wherever ye go, however ye live your life...I will be here for ye. My friend, always, and more.” His eyes misted up, and he bestowed a careful, gentle kiss on Mark’s soft lips. Smiling, the Omega pecked him on the cheek, and rubbed his belly.

“Can we rustle up some grub, because I’m starving!”

******

The two werewolves had ventured outside after a leisurely breakfast, Mark antsy and eager to get some fresh air and a cool breeze. Unfortunately, because it was Ireland, they had to use umbrellas to shield them from the light drizzle that seemed to always be descending from the skies. “We call the rain Lil’ Fooker.” “Really?” “No, we’re not that creative.” Jack poked Mark teasingly, and the Omega rested his head on Jack’s shoulder for a moment.

“Um, Jack...can I try something?” Mark asked shyly, his cheeks becoming a lovely pale pink. Jack grinned. “Sure, as long as it doesn’t involve violatin’ public nudity laws.” “Oh, you dirty-minded little leprechaun.” “Raaaacist, hello!” Poking Jack reproachfully, the Omega leaned in and slowly inhaled, a few inches from Jack’s neck, almost like he was smelling the Alpha.

“I just...wanted to see. I was curious.” Mark flushed again, and Jack secretly grinned at his adorkable-ness. “And? Hope I don’t smell like Chica.” Both of them laughed, and Mark replied, “Your scent is difficult to explain, it’s like nothing I’ve ever smelled before but also a billion different things mixed together. Cake, definitely, and a bit of lavender.” The werewolf tilted his head in thought. “Honey, ink, the kind of soap that smells really good, freshly cut grass, and fresh linen. Also, just...warm. Safe. Comforting, like a favorite chair or blanket.”

Jack was still processing all of it. “That’s crazy,” he murmured. “I’m definitely glad about some of those...what does ink smell like, though? And am I better than a blanket?” Mark shrugged. “You are far superior to any blanket. As for the ink, though, I couldn’t say, I’ve never smelled ink. It just fit the smell, like the lavender and honey and linen.” The Irishman grinned, and then did the same to Mark, standing slightly on his tiptoes to get close enough.

“Steam, ocean water, cinnamon, and black tea.” Jack declared after a moment, looking at Mark, who nodded once. “I suppose that makes sense, if any of that can make sense at all.” Struck by an urge, Jack spread his arms wide and started singing, “There’s no earthly way of knowing...which direction we are going…” Mark practically doubled over laughing, and Jack started dancing down the sidewalk in the rain.

“There’s no knowing where they’re rowing, or which way the river’s flowing! Not a speck of light is showing, so the danger must be growing, for the rowers keep on rowing, and they’re certainly not showing…” They burst out together, “Any signs that they are slowing!” 

Mark exclaimed, “I certainly hope the rowers of our boat don’t slow!” Jack raised an eyebrow. “Have ye seen the Septiplier fandom? They’re going to be sailin' our ship until the very end.”

******

Mark sat back in the car as rain drummed on the windshield, scrolling through his phone. Inside the liquor store, Jack was grabbing some Jack Daniels for a video he was planning to make that involved Higher or Lower. The American had snidely suggested marijuana, but Jack had rejected that idea with an amused glare. Probably for the best.

The Youtuber clicked on Buzzfeed, scrolling through the articles. “Hmm...Disney quiz...irrelevant news story...that’s clickbait…what say I have a little fun with reading until Jackaboy gets back?” Exiting out of Buzzfeed, Mark typed in the URL for AO3 and entered ‘Septiplier’ into the search bar. As expected, pages and pages of smut pulled up onto his phone. He scrolled past a ton of them before eventually stopping on one called ‘A New Record.’ 

“Maybe?” Mark clicked on it and read the summary quickly, snorting with disappointment. “Not this one, it looks like a heap of crap.” But before he could do anything else, the car window shattered, and something hard slammed into his skull. The werewolf tried to stay awake, yanking at his seat belt buckle, but his vision gradually grew darker until everything faded away. His last thought was of Jack.

******

Jack exited the store clutching a plastic bag containing several bottles of Jack Daniels, plus a ginger ale that he had bought for Mark. The Irishman whistled as he walked, swinging his bag slightly, until he reached the car. Which was empty. “Mark?” He walked around to the driver’s side, and Jack’s heart froze in his chest when he saw that the window had been shattered.

“...Mark? Mark!” The bag dropped from his hand, at least one of the Jack Daniels shattering, as he reached through the window, oblivious to two cuts he received reaching through the window. On the leather seat, crisply folded on perfectly white paper, was a small typed note that had his name on it. Shaking, trembling hands. Picking up the note. Unfolding it, and its damned too-perfect creases that separated the paper into thirds.

Jack,

Your boyfriend is safe, and will be unharmed. Rest assured, we will not be treating him badly as long as he cooperates. Depending on the circumstances, he may be in touch with you soon. If this happens, we will send a secrecy waiver for you to sign. The official story will be that Mark is in the hospital with pneumonia for now. You will tell everyone this, or both you and Mark will be killed. You will be watched, so don’t think you can get away with anything. Eventually, if both of you comply and we acquire everything we want, there is a good chance Mark will be released and allowed to return. Until then, please follow our requests. 

Sincerely,  
An Anonymous Organization

Dropping the paper. Disbelief, shock, not wanting it to be true. Needing Mark. Wanting, badly, to protect him. Shield him from all harm. Crying. “MARK!”

******

Author Note - MWAHAHAHA! Also, this chapter is dedicated to Gene Wilder, and I did my best to pay tribute to him. Rest in peace.


End file.
